Tortall Ficlets
by trisanamcgraw
Summary: Written for tortall100 and tammydrabbles. [15: facial expressions]
1. Unfinished Business, June 14, breakup

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Author's Note: This is my first real drabble for the LiveJournal tortall100 challenge. June 14's subject: an obscure pairing and/or a breakup. I managed to write both. Length: 410 words.

Unfinished Business

By Trisana McGraw

"Daine . . . I'm not sure how to say this." Perin sighed, his eyes dropping to the pad of paper he held in one hand; the fingers of his other hand were busy twirling a stylus. He was a writer (or at least a clerk), for the gods' sakes! He should think of something poetical yet still sorrowful, a proper goodbye.

Sighing again, he squared his shoulders and met her blue-gray eyes. "I think we should see other people," he began. "Now, Daine, we had fun last year, and I was glad for the time we spent together. I just think that after all that has happened during the war . . ."

Daine struggled not to roll her eyes, but it was almost a losing battle. It was common knowledge that while she'd been risking her life for the kingdom, the most persistent of her swains had been bedding several maids in the palace. Besides, she and Perin had never had _serious_ feelings for one another since the beginning, so she didn't see what the big deal was now. Ah, well. Best to let him get this out and spare her explaining that she was in love with Numair; they'd agreed to keep their relationship quiet for a little while, once matters in Tortall had settled down.

She refocused on what Perin was saying. "So much has changed, including my feelings for you," he said, setting down his tools and taking her hands. "I'm truly sorry that it didn't work out, Daine, but I think it's for the best."

__

Mouse manure, she thought in response to his first sentence. She agreed with him on the second half: of course "breaking up" – if it could even be called that – was the best thing for both of them. Nonetheless, she looked at the ground and nodded, trying to call up some semblance of disappointment while moments away from laughing out loud.

"Come here," Perin murmured, enveloping her in a firm hug. Pulling back, he abruptly announced, "Well, I'll be on my way, then."

Daine nodded and waited until he had turned a corner before doubling over. Once she had regained control of herself and had wiped her streaming eyes, she headed for Numair's rooms, which she would soon be sharing. They still had to assist all the mages with clearing away the remnants of dark magic their enemies had caused; then she and Numair could love each other in peace.


	2. Duty, June 21, learning to use a weapon

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Author's Note: Ficlet for the LJ tortall100 challenge. June 21's subject: a character (not Alanna, Daine, or Kel) learning how to use a weapon. In this case, the character is using a trap instead of a weapon. Set during _Lady Knight_. Length: I tried for 100 words, but it just didn't work for this fic. It's 200 words instead.

Duty

By Trisana McGraw

He takes the end of the rope in his teeth and carries it over to a stump, which he and several others, dogs and cats, wrap the rope tightly around. He's aware of humans watching him, some amused but most wearing expressions of unease. Yesterday he wouldn't have understood the reason for their awkwardness, but today it's clear to him: animals aren't supposed to know how to rig traps for enemies. Daine told all of the animals that this has never been done before but that now it is essential so they will be prepared for the barbarians' attack. Duty, another new feeling suddenly crammed into his head with all the other strange emotions, also helped him to comprehend.

Once the guards give him their orders, looking uncomfortable at speaking to a dog as they would a human, he goes to do what they tell him. As he carries sharp-tipped weapons in his mouth back to the stump, he spots Daine.

__

Am I doing it right, Wildmage? he asks eagerly, his tail wagging excitedly.

At first she says nothing, as her eyes brighten with tears that he recognizes as grief. Then, her voice catching, she answers, "Yes. You're doing fine."


	3. First Meeting, June 27, friendship

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Author's Note: Drabble written for the LJ tortall100 challenge. June 27's challenge: the beginning of a friendship OR the making of an enemy; I chose the former. Though I usually try to keep these 100 words, I had enough to write that I took it to 500 (yay, me). Set during _Lioness Rampant_.

First Meeting

By Trisana McGraw

"Alanna, how are you?" Gary exclaimed, embracing her as she stepped into the courtyard. Laughing, she explained that she was giving Buri a tour of the city. Soon Raoul came by and pried Gary off her long enough to hug her himself. By then a crowd of pages and squires had gathered around to watch the famed older knights chattering with the even better known Sir Alanna. Buri leaned against the fence that surrounded the courtyard, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

Once seemingly everyone had greeted her, Alanna turned, her face still bright with laughter, and motioned Buri over. "This is Buriram Tourakom, Princess Thayet's guard." Buri remained silent as Alanna introduced the brown-haired and –eyed Gary, and the taller, darker Raoul.

"Looks rather young to be a guard," Raoul commented, his dark eyes studying Buri thoughtfully. She glared right back at him, and a slow grin spread over his face.

"Well, we did start knight training at ten," Gary reminded him, but Raoul went on.

"Come on, she looks like she's at least five years younger than I am."

Alanna sent Buri an apologetic look, but the K'mir was unfazed. She noticed that she and Alanna had arrived in the middle of a staff-fighting session. Grabbing a stick as long as she was tall off the wall, she held it in front of her and challenged, "Would you like to put those long-learned knight skills against K'miri training?"

Raoul's eyes flashed with more amusement. He took a staff of equal size to Buri's while Gary groaned and ushered the younger boys away. The sight of Raoul and Buri circling each other was rather comical; he was a full head and shoulders taller than she, not to mention more muscled. Buri didn't look the least bit intimidated; she hoisted her staff up and waited for him to attack.

He brought his staff forward, reminding himself not to strike too hard. She surprised him by blocking him and speedily pulling the staff away to whack him on the knee. He gave a gasp of surprise and gazed at her with renewed interest, readying himself again.

The attacks started out cautious but soon sped up, until the staffs were only pale, twirling blurs. Everyone watched intently, holding their breaths; the only sounds were the two warriors panting and the steady bang as they blocked one another. Neither seemed to be gaining the advantage, until Buri feinted to the left and caught Raoul off-guard by sweeping the staff under his legs, knocking him to the ground and pressing the staff against his throat.

He stared up into Buri's solemn face. Sounding shakily amazed, he said, "I yield." She removed the staff and helped him to his feet while the pages and squires cheered, probably at seeing the older knight landed on his rump.

Raoul grinned before pulling Buri into a crushing hug; when he released her, to everyone's amazement she was smiling too. "I see the start of something beautiful," he proclaimed.


	4. Skin Deep, July 3, anything

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Author's Note: Drabble for the LJ tortall100 challenge. July 3's challenge: anything. I chose _reflections_ from a past sunday100 challenge. I tried for 100 words, then 200, and finally left it at 265. (I figured, with a 1,000-word limit, why get picky?)

Skin Deep

By Trisana McGraw

Wheezing with the effort, Numair and Daine carried the full-length mirror through the door and set it down near the dresser.

"Everything's in," he said, stepping back and brushing the dust off his hands. "What do you think, magelet?"

Daine didn't pay attention to the full effect of rooms that they now shared; her focus was on the mirror only. She saw the two of them standing together: a tall, dark man, nearly forty, and a young woman who was only in her mid-twenties, and she began to feel uncomfortable. Something didn't look quite right.

Numair noticed the discomfort on her face and asked, "What is it, Daine?" Following her eyes, he realized. With a sigh, he placed his hands on her shoulders; in the reflection she saw his head come to rest on her shoulder.

"Daine, are you still worried about this?" He sighed and turned her away from their reflection. "Magelet, I'd expect more from a shapeshifter. Don't you know that one cannot judge another from outward appearance alone? I know it's a horrible cliché, but what matters is what is _inside_. In my heart — and hopefully you feel the same towards me — I love you."

Daine sighed. "I know, and I do love you. I just wonder sometimes, how others might see us."

"It doesn't matter what they see, as long as we know what's real." Numair started to lead her away from the mirror.

"You learned all this from being a shapeshifter?" she asked, smiling up at him.

He grinned back. "Well, I've had a _few_ years more experience than you."


	5. Friends and Lovers, August 1, firsts

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Author's Note: Hey, I'm back after a few weeks' absence and ready to give you all another tortall100 drabble. August 1's (I think) subject is firsts, which I suggested with this idea already in mind. Set during SQUIRE, and it also sort of fits in to my fanfic _Romantic Notions_, before Joren's parents barge in. I think the mood of this ficlet is a bit different from RN, which comes from the fact that I wrote the latter almost a year ago, and my views of the couple may have changed a bit since then. Length: I tried for 500 words, but my Raoul/Buri love (because they are my Tortall OTP) forced me to go on to 733.

Friends and Lovers

By Trisana McGraw

Buri blinked against the darkness and shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable so she could go back to sleep. Warm blankets were twisted around her legs, but the upper part of her body was exposed to the cool breeze coming in through a window. She pulled the blanket up, but as she did she felt the brush of skin against hers. Looking up, she could make out Raoul's outline in the darkness. He appeared to be leaning on one arm; she could tell he wasn't asleep.

"Hi," she whispered, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say. Her mind hadn't yet quite grasped that she was lying naked in her best friend's bed.

"Hi." His voice came in a quiet rumble, sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine. She scooted closer, the blanket slipping as she did so. She saw Raoul's eyes drop to her exposed body, and her heart flipped over at the intensity with which he was staring at her. 

"You've been awake for a while?" she asked, surprised at the breathless sound of her voice.

"A little," was his soft reply. She could tell that he was smiling. "I was watching you."

She couldn't help but smile back. Gods, he was so sweet that she wondered why she hadn't realized sooner that all the good qualities in her friend would be even stronger as a lover. "And?"

There was a note of puzzlement in his voice. "And what?"

"Are you thinking that this was a good decision?"

"Buri . . ." Now he sounded shocked, and he sat up. She propped herself up and matched his gaze steadily; she was completely serious.

Raoul was silent for several long moments before gently pulling her over to him and kissing her firmly. "Yes," he answered when they pulled back. He traced a finger softly over her cheek and said, "You're beautiful."

Despite herself, she blushed. Pressing a kiss to his hand, she replied, "You're such a gentleman."

He laughed softly and stroked her hair. "I'm not sure about that; I bedded you on the first date."

She laughed too and snuggled closer to his warm body. "Face it, Raoul, we've had twenty years of foreplay."

"You may be right about that." They fell into a comfortable, companionable silence, the kind they'd shared as both fellow servants of the crown and friends, and now as lovers. Buri was drifting off back into sleep when she heard him say, "Did you ever think we would end up like this?"

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Maybe, but this is nothing how I imagined it."

"You imagined it, hmm?" He sounded amused as he idly stroked her thigh. "Tell me more."

"It was nothing, Raoul. I didn't know you as well as I do now." She fumbled for the words. "It was just a silly daydream with no sense."

"When did you think all this that I never knew about?"

She sighed, unable to keep from smiling at the same time. He wouldn't let up. "It was when I first met you."

"I can't believe that I had no idea of this."

"Well, I was sixteen, I'd just entered a new country, and you were this tall, dark, handsome" -- she heard him chuckling quietly, so she gave him a playful smack on the arm -- "knight who was actually a decent fellow. It was a juvenile crush. Besides, you were always being set up with wealthy, dignified ladies of the court; I didn't think you'd care at all for a dagger-wielding foreigner."

"But you knew that Alanna was one of my best friends. She was never one of those 'dignified court ladies.'"

Buri shrugged again. "I just never really realized it." After a pause, she added, "Though, if I'd known back then that you were such a good lover, I surely would have made a move in the first few months."

Raoul laughed and tilted her face upwards for another kiss. Several more followed, until Buri gave a small yawn, which made him laugh again.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I'm just a bit worn out."

"Me too," he said, kissing the top of her head. He lay back down, pulling her with him. Buri wriggled for a moment, finding a comfortable position between him and the blankets. Another kiss, whispered "good night"s, and she dozed off, wrapped in warmth and security.


	6. Foresight, May 5, fast forward

**Foresight**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for the livejournal community tammydrabbles, prompt 05: _fast forward. _Set in early WWRLAM, my first A/J piece.

---

As they lie in their bedroll, her small body curled perfectly into his, he imagines that he can see their life together as clearly as the visions that he will receive as the Voice: Corus, and Tortall, united; Conté children with their eyes and Gifts glittering like blue and violent gemstones; this flame-haired beauty as the champion of his heart, champion of his bed, sitting on a throne beside him – his Queen.

---

His arms aren't warm enough around her; with the cold that slides over her skin come fragmented visions of the future: a splintered country whose people would never follow a knight-queen; children born too soon, into inattention and resentment; constant turmoil of heart and house; she his enemy rather than his beloved – his Champion, but never his.


	7. Sweet & Impractical, Apr 30, love not

**Sweet and Impractical**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for the livejournal community tammydrabbles, prompt 04: _love, not actually._ This piece takes place during _Squire_, in the late morning/early afternoon of the day after Sebila's party (aka a few hours after the end of my fic _Romantic Notions_).

"_You take chivalry too seriously," Buri informed Kel. "Just like Raoul. It's sweet, in an impractical way." _– Squire

---

Looking back, Buri figured that she was only half-surprised upon opening her door to Raoul. His big hands hooked into his belt, he flashed her a charming grin and asked, "Feeling hungry?"

She considered making a joke about him not being able to restrain himself for a mere three hours, but there was a more pressing problem she needed to address.

A frown darkened Raoul's features upon seeing the look of pity that appeared on her face. He opened his mouth to speak again, but she cut him off. "Raoul, you can't – _we_ can't do this."

His confusion deepened. "Buri, what are you talking about?"

"You know what I mean," she pressed. "This built-in chivalry of yours that I knew was bound to emerge. Granted, we weren't courting before we went to bed, but now you're going to feel the need to have all of our meals together, or to carry the hem of my dress over puddles, or – or to recite poetry to my riding gloves." She had no idea what it was that nobles did, but she realized that she looked foolish flapping her hand around for emphasis, so she shut up.

The big knight was silent for several moments, his black eyes studying her to the point that Buri almost spoke again to fill the silence, but he beat her to it. "Buri, if you hadn't noticed in the last twenty years, there is little that the conservatives and I agree with. Courting rituals are just one of those things. And the last time that I checked, eating a meal together wasn't a binding contract."

She sighed and threaded her fingers together. "I just don't want you to feel obligated to treat me like some virginal maiden you're courting."

His chuckle was coupled with a quick, albeit subtle, appraisal of her body. "Somehow I don't think that will be a problem, darling." The not-yet-distant memory of gasps and moans and a heated embrace that the endearment conjured made her face flush slightly. Buri glanced away quickly before looking into his face again. It amazed her how quickly he could transform from a knight to a man and back.

Raoul's expression had lost some of its jocularity. "Buri, we're friends, comrades-in-arms, whatever you want to call it. And I happen to know that my _friend_ hasn't had the chance to eat breakfast or check on her charges. So, would you like to join me at the barracks?"

She couldn't argue with his logic. Truth be told, her stomach was growling madly, something that made Raoul laugh as they walked to the barracks; she smacked his arm but smiled into his eyes.

Surrounded by their respective subordinates, they spoke of neutral things and laughed over anecdotes from Sebila's party. Raoul mentioned that he was holding another party in his rooms in a few nights' time, and perhaps this time he would be able to lure Gary away from paperwork. Buri wondered if it were her imagination when she felt his hand brush against her knee, but his features betrayed nothing.

Raoul walked her to her door – _Here's that chivalry again_, she thought with a shake of her head – but before she went inside, he pulled her into a concealed corner and kissed her swiftly.

"I hope for entirely unchivalrous reasons that you come to the party," he murmured against her ear before pulling back and striding away, leaving the K'mir leaning against the doorframe with a bemused grin on her face.

---

With a sigh, Buri stirred and opened her eyes. Every inch of her felt warm and cushioned by the heavy winter blankets; the very air seemed calm and still, not distorted by the bustle of palace servants, messengers, knights, Riders, and Own. She missed these types of mornings.

She decided that it must be somewhat early yet, since beside her Raoul was still snoring into the pillow. She got to her feet, stretching as she did so, and cast a grin at the dozing knight before going to freshen up.

Returning from the privy, she paused in front of the bed. Raoul's large frame was sprawled over the sheets; she couldn't help but smile at the rise and fall of his back as he slept.

The smile faded from her face as she considered her options. _I really should leave. _The choices presented to her seemed fairly obvious: a warm, soft bed complete with a handsome lover, or her cold desk covered with the Rider reports she'd been putting off all week. Yet, her dilemma went deeper. Getting back into his bed – staying rather than leaving – meant moving in the direction of a relationship, or at the least towards something more concrete and filled with more commitments than their no-strings arrangement. Combing her fingers through her hair, Buri told herself that she had to be realistic, or, better yet, practical about the matter: their friendship would only suffer from too many expectations.

And yet . . . it was still dark outside, and honestly she hadn't gotten much sleep the night before anyway. Raoul had told her the same at breakfast: they weren't giggling noble virgins courting toward marriage. But there remained the chance of letting such silly thoughts overwhelm their liaisons; a snare that, right now at least, she wanted to stay as far away from as possible.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the prickling of goosebumps over her back and arms. _Here I am, waxing poetic about what's sensible,_ she thought wryly as she rubbed her cold skin. _It's Midwinter and I'm standing in the middle of the room naked._ She quickly made her decision without giving herself time to further over-think it._ The only _practical_ thing to do right now is to get warm again_.

With that she slid back under the covers, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. Before she had closed her eyes again, Raoul's broad arm had wrapped around her waist.


	8. Baby One More Time, May 11, Britney song

**Baby, One More Time**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for tammydrabbles prompt 06: _Britney Spears song/album titles_. For wottie, who wanted serious and this particular song; I can't believe I managed both. I owe a lot of inspiration (I know, how much inspiration can a 300-word piece warrant?) to the discussion that Lea/Alone in the Desert started on Sheroes Central (under "Buri/Raoul – Past Relationship?"), as well as Quatre-sama's So Mote it Be and Alex Rose's A Bottle of 439.

---

"Don't tell me that you haven't seen the effect that liquor has on him?"

"Thayet, there's nothing wrong with celebrating a little. Mithros knows we did much more as squires."

"It's not the same. Last night Buri came to me crying – again. He uses her and then acts as if it meant nothing. She's heartbroken."

"It does take two to –"

"_Don't_ you defend him! He's a different man with it."

"And don't _you_ make this personal. I can't court-martial one of my finest knights because of a soured fling."

Her hazel eyes were as hard as the amber eardrops he gave her for their first Midwinter together. "You're always making excuses for his behavior, Jon. When are you going to stop protecting him?"

"You have to understand. He . . . he's one of my oldest friends." She didn't flinch away from the anguish in his expression, but she also didn't play the same card with Buri.

"He's the court drunk, Jon," she said, calmer, gentler. "It's ruining him, in the battlefield too. I've seen him hung over in the mornings. He's not fit to lead in a fight."

His ire rose again. "Raoul would never knowingly put the Own in danger –"

A servant crashed through the door and stumbled into a hasty bow. "Apologies for interrupting, your Majesties, but it's Sir Raoul's squad. We have word that they – they undertook an endeavor to surprise a group of bandits . . ."

Jonathan shut his eyes. He did not want to hear the rest, but he wet his lips and forced himself to listen, his chest tight.

". . . Five men are dead."

_Goldenlake, you gods-cursed idiot. It's one time too many. No, it's twenty-one times too many, and now even I can't get you out of this travesty._

---


	9. Faulta, May 19, the blame game

**Fa(u)lta**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for the livejournal community tammydrabbles, prompt 07: _the blame game_. Also, my first official drabble (100 words) in a long time. Re: the strange title: "faltar" is Spanish for "to lack"; hopefully you can also find the word "fault" in there.

---

Kalasin wishes there were room in duty for blame. She couldn't be called silly girl for refusing to address her father for weeks after he rebuffed her knightly aspirations, for three days after her betrothal; she could scream, rail against her husband for taking other women. She isn't naïve enough to think that it could change things, but it would mean that her anger – indignation – shame – hurt would be justified.

But if so, Kaddar wouldn't hold her with such tenderness or look at her with open heartache at his (not her) son's naming. For this one small thing she is glad.


	10. Thirst, May 13, love to lust

**Thirst**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for the livejournal community 31days, **May 13: love passed into the house of lust.**

---

Raoul didn't know how or when it happened, but he became aware that his heart was beating faster and his breathing was shallow; beneath his clothing he was sweating, though the enormous gilded doors of the Great Hall had been forced open to admit as much of the cool summer breeze as possible. He briefly wondered if he were suffering a heart attack – his eyes darted around the room, searching for Alanna – they alighted on her fiery hair, which framed a flushed and smiling face. This wasn't right; the King's Champion hardly ever danced, and she never looked happy about it.

Raoul blinked several times, struggling to concentrate. The minstrels' music pulsing through his body, the whirl and color of courtiers dancing by, the laughter on Jon's face, all seemed to melt into an indistinct blur from which he felt strangely detached. All he could focus on was the searing heat of Buri's hand on his leg and the growing tightness of his tunic. He barely recalled bidding their good-nights; the smile grew on Jon's face, but it could have been an effect of the honeyed drink (not mead, he remembered, there had been no alcohol) served. He knew nothing of how they made it to his rooms, only that they were laughing breathlessly like teenagers and when, safely inside, he pressed Buri against the wall and she let out a long moan simply from the graze of his hand against her chest, he thanked Mithros that Kel no longer shared the rooms with him.

Cold panic gripped his chest with the realization that maybe he _was_ drunk. There was no way he couldn't recognize the loss of control spurred on by overpowering thirst. But liquor had always clouded his senses; here they were heightened nearly to the breaking point. Buri's mouth was hot and insistent on his neck, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He cradled her head with one hand, tugging her face to his. Her kiss dissolved the tenuous hold he had on his inhibitions.

He braced one hand against the wood of the wall and the other on her hip, grunting curses against her skin. The fingers of one of her hands gripped his curls, and the others fisted in his shirt, stretching the material. If she tore it, he didn't know; whatever sound it made was swallowed by her cry as she arched against him.

He knew that they ended up on the bed only from the brush of cool sheets on his back. His calloused hands stroked her damp skin and pulled her down to him, with the same ravenous need, he had to admit, of an alcoholic desperate for that sweet acid to wet his dry throat. After that moment, all sensations melted into heated skin and pulsating heartbeats, and he wondered how the fire didn't swallow them up.

---

Raoul awoke feeling parched, with Buri lying against him. Her golden-brown skin was flushed, her black hair mussed adorably. He figured that he looked much the same. An echo of the previous night's desire lanced through his gut, and he cupped her head and kissed her firmly.

When he pulled away, her lips were curved in a smile. She rolled over so that her cheek was pressed against his warm chest; her fingers tapped idly against his stomach.

He pressed a kiss to a darkening mark on her shoulder, causing her to groan softly. "What _was_ that?" he whispered, surprised by the huskiness of his voice.

She grinned up at him sleepily. "_That_ was Jon's idea of how to set off the Beltane festivities." At his blank look, she clarified, "An aphrodisiac. _This_ –" She nipped at his neck – "was you not being such a _knight_ for once."


	11. Fracture, May 19, broken glass

**Fracture**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for the livejournal community 31days, **May 19: who's reflected in the broken glass?**

---

Raoul was certain that he had deciphered all of the signs that he experienced in his Ordeal; he didn't expect the Chamber to be especially subtle in depicting young men's weaknesses and fears. However, it was the last symbol that puzzled him as he emerged, shaking and disoriented, from the stone silence to the warmth and cheers of his family and the rest of the Court: the Chamber had presented him with the image of a stained glass window. The scene the window portrayed also did not confuse him; after all, few knights were as large as the one depicted and would have been flanked by a body of golden water. It was the meaning that eluded him.

As King Roald's sword touched each of Raoul's shoulders, a glimmer of light caught the youth's eye: one of the Grand Hall's many depictions of kings past, the colorful glass sparkling by the light of countless floating lamps. Raoul put the matter out of his mind during the celebration and resolved to puzzle over it later. He even allowed himself the complacent assumption that his future held such adventures that would award him equal renown.

---

It was the smashing of his bottle against the wall that wrenched him from his drunken stupor, or maybe it was the terrified screech of the girl whose name he couldn't even remember. Stumbling over the damage, he beheld what the Chamber had meant for him to see all along: his ashen face, her frightened, reproachful eyes; reflected in golden liquid that burned instead of buoyed. The dazzling colors were multifaceted in the tears that blurred his eyes. He hated the man he saw.


	12. Normal, June 9, normal

**Normal**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for the livejournal community tammydrabbles, prompt 10: _normal_. Alanna/George fluff set during WWRLAM, after his infamous "This fish loves you with all of his crooked heart" line.

---

"You're quiet," Alanna commented, though she hadn't spoken either in the last five minutes.

George idly traced a finger over the carved bedpost. "You'll have to give me a minute, darlin'. Achieving is chief desire of the last year gives a man pause."

Alanna turned over onto her side to face him, a smile spreading over her face. He returned the grin and, with a murmured "C'mere," tugged her over so that her head leaned against his shoulder. She pressed a soft kiss to one of his scars; his fingers continued their tracing, this time along her desert-tanned skin. "You're right; this should have happened between us a long time ago. But you were more . . . more normal than I expected."

She shoved hard against his chest so that she could look him in the eye; her own eyes blazed. In her time with Jonathan, she'd suffered the constant fear that she wasn't as lovely, as graceful, as skilled as Lady Delia or the other beauties he'd bedded prior to her – now George had someone she had to measure up to?

"Whoa, there, lass," he said, grabbing her hand before she could climb out of his bed. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way. Alanna – Alanna, look at me. There are those that look at everything you've done and think that you're not only god-touched but maybe part-god. I m'self thought for a moment that you were the Goddess herself – that you might smite me in the midst of our carryin'-on here. t's a great comfort for a mortal like me to know that the legendary Alanna of Trebond is actually one too."

"I'm not a legend yet," Alanna retorted, somewhat mollified, her words muffled against his skin as she resettled her head. A few moments of silence, then, "Besides, you should know."

"Hm?"

She smiled. "You're the one who made me normal."

"What d'you mean by that, lass?" he asked, twining his thick fingers in her smaller but equally calloused ones.

She gazed up at the ceiling as she slowly rubbed her thumb against his. "When you first kissed me, on Jon's birthday –"

"I remember."

"—I felt like any other girl. Hear me out," she warned, sensing the beginnings of a chuckle from deep within his chest. "I wasn't some boy, or the Prince's squire; I didn't have to hide my sex for you to kiss me. You just did . . . you kissed me like you would any girl. You made me normal."

"For a moment," George put in. "Then you threatened stabbing and all other manner of gruesome death for me." Chuckling, Alanna pressed her face into his shoulder.

As their laughter subsided, he tilted her head up, his expression serious. "And now?"

"You make me feel like a woman," she answered honestly. "I feel like I'm home."

He nodded, his smile warm. "Then that's enough."


	13. Of A Sort, June 23, for the kingdom

**Of A Sort**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for tammydrabbles prompt 12: _for the kingdom_. Set post-TQ, but the only book-related spoiler is what Alan Cooper is up to right now. Also, this is a follow-up to the June 18 drabble in my 31days story Wind Chimes, _snow on the mountains, flowers in the fields_ (plot: Raoul and Alan, joined by Buri, enjoy a few days' respite at Goldenlake), but you don't necessarily have to have read that fic to understand this one For Gem (fyrethief), who always gives thoughtful reviews for my Raoul/Buri as well as every other fic I write.

---

For several moments their panting breaths were all that could be heard, one echoing the other in a sort of mismatched rhythm, until Buri laughed shakily. She smoothed her fingers over the coarse hair of Raoul's chest and pressed kisses to his sweaty skin even as he stroked her back with one large hand. "Horse Lords, Raoul," she murmured appreciatively, her voice wobbly with exertion.

He chuckled, glad that she felt as dazed as he did and that their sex was still that good. "I'll have you know," he informed her once he had caught his breath, "that you have single-handedly made me reevaluate my position on marriage."

This prompted a lazy smile which soon turned playful as, her movements intentionally slow, Buri lifted herself up on her elbows. "And what's your position now?" she asked, leaning her face close to his.

He grinned. "I love it." He pulled her against him and kissed her deeply, enjoying her soft moan as one hand moved up his chest to wrap around the back of his neck. "I love you," he murmured when they pulled back; Buri sighed a reply and kissed him again. They shared several more lazy, heated kisses, until Buri made to get out of the bed.

"It's cold," she said in response to his questioning look. Indeed, they were lying only on thin sheets.

Raoul nodded and kissed the top of her head. "Stay. I'll take care of it." He stood up from the bed and padded over the cold stone floor to the closet, from which he retrieved a heavy blanket.

He admired her dark skin as Buri stretched languidly. "I don't know why Thayet said that the spark of romance dwindles with marriage," she commented with a sly grin.

Raoul tossed the blanket to her and slid back into bed beside her; she immediately rolled over so that her back was pressed against his chest. Pulling the blanket up to her shoulders, he said, "You have to remember, though, that Jon and Thayet have been married for – Mithros, it's been twenty years – to our one."

She nodded. "True."

Raoul stroked her hair; he had tangled his fingers in it as they made love. "Furthermore, they see each other so constantly that they must get sick of one another."

Buri tilted her head back to look him in the eye. "Are you saying that you would get sick of me if you saw me all the time?" she asked playfully, though he couldn't miss the note of warning in her voice.

"Of course not," he responded truthfully, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "But you have to admit, absence did make our hearts grow fonder."

She stroked his cheek, then trailed her hand along his neck. "Does that mean that I should expect you once every few months, then? Twice a year, and maybe on the solstices and Midwinter if I'm good?"

He laughed. "A little more often than that – after all, it wouldn't be fair to keep poor Alan on the road for half a year."

The fingers tracing over his chest paused. "Why _did_ you decide to take Alan on as your squire? We never really talked about it."

Raoul was quiet for several moments. "Well, for the good of the realm," he finally answered. "The King and the royal family need protectors to spread their laws and conventions to the rest of Tortall and to other countries. What with our losses in the Immortals and Scanran wars, we're lacking valuable role models to properly rear the next generation."

"That excuse worked with Kel, Raoul," Buri said, not unkindly. "But I'm sure that there were plenty of knights who would have jumped at the chance to squire Alanna's son. Why did _you_ take on another squire?"

"Have I ever told you that it's irritating how well you know me?" Raoul asked wryly after several more beats of silence.

Buri grinned. "Many times, I believe. Often when we argued on Progress, to the delight of Flyndan and all of my trainees." She stroked his neck both with affection and to show that she still expected an answer.

He exhaled slowly. "Let me preface this by saying, as we discussed before, that I don't want to have children – I don't need anyone more than you to complete my life, and, considering our ages and my life with the Own, it wouldn't be fair to any younglings we might bring into this world. That said . . ." He paused to clear his throat. ". . . there's such pride in passing on the rules of chivalry and combat to a young man – or woman, in Kel's case – in watching him or her interact with other beings and the world and grow as a person. I know that you don't care much for chivalry, Buri –"

"No," his wife cut in, her voice gentle, "I understand."

His lips turned upward in a smile. "Over the years – decades – I've improved the Own and shaped it into the honorable squad of protectors that it was always meant to be, but it's seeing the development of an individual that most makes me feel that I've done something worthwhile." He expelled a long breath. "You're right – it's not so much for the realm, or for Jon, as much as for me. Does that make me selfish?"

"Terribly so," Buri teased. "Alan is lucky to have you, just like Kel was."

Raoul chuckled. "Sometimes I think that I was the one who benefited more from taking Kel on."

"That could be true." Buri turned in his arms so that they were face-to-face. "But try not to let the months drag between your visits, or I may have to ride out there myself and tow you home."

"Yes, ma'am."

Buri rolled her eyes at him. "Besides," she added, leaning closer, "although I may not be a chivalrous knight of the realm, I'd like to think that I have ways to occupy your attention." She illustrated her point with a lingering kiss, which her husband gladly returned.

When they broke apart, Buri resettled herself in Raoul's arms and pulled the blanket up again. "Another thing about Jon and Thayet," she said as her husband was closing his eyes, "is that they have to control all of Tortall – you and I are in charge of just one small fief, and even then we don't devote that much attention to it."

"We're a terrible lord and lady of Goldenlake, possibly the worst in its history," Raoul deadpanned. "You see now why we don't have a squalling infant or four? Instead we jump straight to the teenage years."

"I've heard from Thayet that those are the worst. . . . You know, Raoul, this is nearly how I imagined our marriage."

"Lazing around Goldenlake and ignoring our noble duties with the quasi-children that we steal from our friends for as long as they interest us?"

She barely managed to keep from laughing. "Exactly."

He covered her smile with his own. "Perfect."


	14. Clean Break, July 21, habit

**Clean Break**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for the livejournal community tammydrabbles, prompt 16: _habit. _Set post-LR, following the fan-held idea that Raoul and Buri had a previous relationship at least partially motivated by his drinking problem.

---

Even hunched, Raoul towered over her, but Buri regarded him coolly. She detested what had become his customary stance because it was less than a year ago that nothing could have cowed this ostensibly invincible man.

When he lifted his head, however, his face was filled with life, the likes she hadn't seen since they had first met. "I don't know how much Thayet or Alanna has been telling you," he said slowly, as if he had trouble forming the words, "but I – I'm giving up drink. I know it's going to be hard, but I'm going to break this vile habit."

Joy surged through her, hot and uplifting. "Raoul, that's wonderful!" she cried, surprising herself with her own exuberance. "I'm proud of you." She reached for one of his big hands, but he twitched it out of her grip. Not understanding, Buri searched his dark eyes, stunned that although in a matter of months she had witnessed in them a wide array of emotions – passion, drunkenness, rage, misery – they were unreadable now.

"I have to break the habit," he repeated in that strangely hesitant tone, "meaning _all_ of my unhealthy behavior."

It took a few moments for his words to register; Buri took in a sharp breath, and her lower lip began to tremble. She hurriedly bit down on it, but her eyes remained trained on his face.

Raoul heaved a mournful sigh. "Buri, you don't deserve the way I treated you."

"I – I know," she stuttered, "but you're going to change – you've shown that already. It wasn't all bad between us, not all the time. I could help you . . ." She reached for him, but this time he took a step away from her. Her hand hung between them, fingers curling on air.

"What we had was not a relationship," Raoul said, his voice soft but steady. Buri stood her ground, gnawing on the inside of her cheek until it bled. She was determined that he didn't see her shake. "I took advantage of you in every way. You deserve more than what I could offer, sober or not. It's better this way," Raoul mumbled before turning aside and shuffling away from her.

Buri squeezed her eyes shut, but hot tears leaked anyway. Her breath caught on a sob, but she didn't care anymore if he heard her. The memory of him kissing her in his doorway . . . one large hand stroking her cheek . . . his whispered sweet nothings . . . flooded her body with heat. But this heat was different, driven by fury. The recalled endearments dissolved into smoke; _unhealthy_ throbbed in time with her blood.

Raoul didn't run back to comfort her, didn't even turn around. She fired a silent string of K'miri curses at his rapidly receding back until her throat was raw with the effort of holding back her screams. How, she demanded to know, how was it better to leave her with a broken heart?


	15. Expression, August 4, facial expressions

**Expression**

by Trisana McGraw

**Author's Note:** Written for the livejournal community tammydrabbles, prompt 18: _facial expressions._

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**Midwinter, 457 H.E. (Human Era)**

"Hullo there, Buri."

Smiling, Buri turned toward Gareth the Younger. "Gary, hi. I . . ." She gestured helplessly with the piece of tack she was cleaning, but he managed to grasp her shoulders and kiss her on the cheek.

"How was your Midwinter?" she asked as she wiped the grime from the tack. "We didn't see you much."

A slight crease appeared between his brows. " 'We'?"

"Raoul and I," Buri answered, biting her tongue too late. Gary let her words pass without comment, however, responding, "Little Gareth had a cold, so Cythera and I have had our hands full for the last few days. I think that he caught it from playing with his cousins in the snow." He gazed around at the white powder that still clung to some rocks and tree branches and rubbed his hands together briskly. "I trust that you had a good holiday, though?"

Buri replaced the tack and leaned on the wall of the stable. "Yes, it was very nice." She wasn't trying to be terse, but she wasn't exactly sure what to say, either. Silly as it sounded, she wasn't used to conversing with Gary without a desk between them.

Gary extracted gloves from his cloak; his Adam's apple did a rapid up-and-down bob. "So, Raoul told me about the, ah . . ." He waved a hand in her direction. "Recent development with you two."

"He did, did he?" Buri responded with a raised eyebrow; she was a bit surprised, though of course he and Raoul were close friends. "Well, that's all right, since it's you." She pursed her lips. "But I would appreciate if you didn't pass on that information to anyone, especially with the eagle-like hearing of the palace gossips. I swear, they'd rival Daine." They shared a laugh, but Buri held his eyes for a moment longer so he that he understood she was serious.

Surprisingly, Gary's expression was even graver. "That's good, because . . . well, I wanted to say be careful. Not _careful_, I mean, I just – I don't want to see Raoul hurt. He's a good man, and he . . ." The lines in his face softened, and a touch of color not caused by the biting cold crept into his cheeks; his eyes, the color of which Buri had always considered to be "muddy," sharpened.

Buri tried not to frown as she sought to remember where she had seen this expression on Gary's face, and suddenly it came to her: At her and Thayet's – well, Thayet's – presentation twenty years prior, she had been standing in a circle with her newfound friends. They had been discussing their respective travels, and when Raoul spoke about the desert or something – she really hadn't been that interested – the other knight had had the same intent look on his face. That was what had caught her attention, though the others had been too engrossed in Raoul's story to take notice. The simultaneously alert yet gentle look in Gary's eyes had played on Buri's mind, at least until a young knight asked her to dance. She couldn't remember seeing that look in his eyes any time since then.

Some recognition must have shown on her face, because Gary hurried to fill the expanding silence: "He doesn't play fast and loose with people."

Buri could feel the tension weighing on the restrained words, but still she aimed for levity. "Funny, he said the same thing to me the first time we –" She suddenly found that she couldn't finish her sentence, but she wondered if by letting the words hang she made things worse.

Gary's features rippled and then contorted into a good-natured smile, and she knew that she had guessed right. "Well, good. I'm glad." He took a deep breath. "It was wonderful seeing you, Buri."

"You too," she said, accepting another kiss on the cheek. His boots crunched over the ice as he continued his walk to the palace. Buri stared at his receding figure until her horse whuffed impatiently and nudged her shoulder, once again claiming her attention.

---

**Spring, 458 H.E. (Human Era)**

Buri could feel Raoul watching her, though she expected that his eyes were half-lidded, as hers were, due to the warmth of the night and the general weariness from long days traveling with the Progress. Still, she enjoyed their few nights of relaxation. Her head was pillowed on one of his broad arms, and her fingers brushed gently against his chest. Their breathing was the only sound save for the chirrup of crickets outside the tent.

She smiled at her lover's face, bathed in the dying glow of the lantern. Finally, she whispered, "I love you, Raoul."

In the soft, flickering orange light she saw his smile grow and a certain twinkle come into his dark eyes. "I love you too, Buri." He smoothed one hand over her bare hip, tugging her closer to kiss her, but her mind's eye was filled with the memory of the presentation ball. As Geoffrey had whirled her away, she had caught sight of that same twinkle in Raoul's eye; she had put it off to the amusing anecdote he had told about the Bazhir. Even that early into her arrival in Corus she knew about the big knight's famed bachelordom; she hadn't even given thought as to whom he might have been addressing.

The pieces fit together with a _click_.

She pulled away. "How long were you and Gary lovers?" she asked, pinning his eyes with hers.

The hand slid off her hip, but to his credit Raoul looked more resigned than surprised. "He told you, then?"

"No," she answered softly. "You just did."


End file.
